


don't make me live the rest of my life forgetting you

by knenok95



Series: i whisper your name and the only way to find you is if i close my eyes [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, No Curse, blind!Waverly au, i guess, tw for mentions of blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-06-30 03:43:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19844869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knenok95/pseuds/knenok95
Summary: It's Waverly's birthday and Nicole doesn't come home.





	1. i. won't you wrap the night around me?

**Author's Note:**

> I might make a bunch of one-shots in the same universe and call it a series.

Bodies weren’t supposed to feel like _that_ . Especially not _this_ body. She knew this body. She fell asleep molded into this body nearly every night and always woke up tangled with the lanky limbs that protruded from this body. She explored this body countless times; with trembling lips and sure fingers. She committed it to memory by touch, the only way she knew how; the only way she could.

She _knew_ this body. And it didn’t feel right; it was too still.

There were no goosebumps when she ghosted her fingertips over pronounced collarbones, barely hidden beneath the unbuttoned uniform shirt; she couldn’t feel the heat radiating off blushed skin; there was no hitch in breath when she accidentally brushed over a bruise she knew sat just below a set of ribs from the week before, when Alice wanted her Cole to teach her how to ride her mama’s horse and Whisky had other plans.

In fact, when Waverly placed a shaking hand over cold lips, there was no breath at all. And when she laid her head onto a chillingly still chest, she couldn’t hear the familiar thump of her lover’s heart beating out a rhythm that usually sounded a lot like her name.

The only sound in the room came from those of a heart shattering to pieces on the wood floor and the anguished cries that followed.

_hours earlier_

“ _Nic_ ,” she laughed. “You’re going to be late.” There wasn’t much conviction in her voice, not when Nicole’s lips were sucking bruises into her neck and long fingers were tangling into thick brunette curls at the back of her head.

“Waves, I’m the _Sheriff_ ,” Nicole mumbled into pebbled skin. “I’m only late if I say I’m late.”

“That’s not how that works and you know it,” Waverly sighed as soft lips fell to her own. She only let Nicole have her way for another moment before she pushed broad shoulders back lightly, breaking the kiss. “Besides, you promised you’d be home early.” She felt a calloused hand cup her cheek and she turned into it to kiss it’s palm.

“And I will be, I still have-” Waverly felt Nicole lift her left hand from her waist, presumably to check her watch. “-six minutes before I absolutely _have_ to leave. I wouldn’t miss tonight for the world, baby.” Waverly bit her lip, barely containing a grin.

“Six minutes huh?”

“Six. Whole. Minutes.” Nicole punctuated each word with a kiss to Waverly’s nose, her cheek, and finally her lips before leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses down Waverly’s naked torso, only stopping to land a heated mouth between her thighs.

It didn’t take the full six minutes to get Waverly’s legs shaking and thighs clenching around Nicole’s ears, but that didn’t mean Nicole halted her efforts. She didn’t come up for a full breath of air until Waverly was dripping down her chin and the alarm on her watch was blaring to the beat of Wynonna banging on the ceiling from the kitchen with a broomstick and yelling something about soundproofing the walls.

* * *

The two didn’t make it down the stairs until several minutes later; Waverly in her robe and Nicole in her uniform, top two buttons undone, and slightly wrinkled from where small fists gripped the starched fabric at her shoulders.

“I fed your dog.” Wynonna called out over the top of her coffee in lieu of a good morning. Waverly rolled her eyes, following Nicole into the kitchen with a finger looped through a section of her belt.

“He has a name, you know.” Waverly released Nicole’s belt when her feet touched the linoleum of the kitchen floor and patted her thigh. The shepherd was at her side in an instant, nose pressed into Waverly’s palm. “Isn’t that right, Meatball?!” She brushed her fingers through the thick fur at the base of Meatball’s neck while his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth.

“Stupid name,” Wynonna mumbled.

“Your daughter named him, Wy…” Waverly laughed patting her dog on the head and making her way over to where she could hear Nicole pouring them both a cup of coffee; hers in a to-go cup, Waverly’s in a mug that Alice painted with puffy paints in school.

“Yeah, she was two. Who thought that was a good idea,” Wynonna tsked, slurping loudly from her mug.

“Pretty sure you encouraged it, Wynonna.” Nicole turned around and took a sip of her coffee, sighing as the hot liquid burned down her throat and warmed her body.

“Didn’t ask you, Red.”

“You fed him _dog_ food though, right? No bacon?” Waverly asked, snuggled into Nicole’s side, her mug cupped in both hands under her nose as she breathed it in. Nicole looped her arm around Waverly’s back and pulled her closer, resting her chin on Waverly’s head.

“Sure,” Wynonna nodded, mostly for her own benefit. Nicole rolled her eyes, a smirk playing at the edge of her mouth. Wynonna never failed to give Meatball a piece of her bacon and a pancake or two every morning, despite Waverly’s protests. They all knew it was a battle she wouldn’t win.

“ _Wynonna_!” Nicole placed a gentle kiss to the crown of Waverly’s head and squeezed her closer; Waverly mindlessly placed a hand to Nicole’s stomach, playing with the end of the tie that rested there.

“What?! I _swear_!”

“Nicole, is she crossing her fingers?”

Nicole snorted, “ _toes_.” Waverly groaned and dropped her head back against Nicole’s shoulder while Meatball nudged her thigh with his nose and took a seat, leaning his weight against her leg.

“ _Haught_! What the hell?!” Nicole shrugged, tapping Waverly’s hip with her finger to let her know she needed to get going. Waverly untangled herself from Nicole’s embrace and leaned her back against the cool countertop, wrapping an arm around her stomach and resting her opposite elbow on top to bring her mug to her lips.

“You know I can’t lie to her, Wynonna.” The smug look on Waverly’s face was just barely visible behind the lip of the mug she kept to her mouth for the soul purpose of hiding it.

“She wouldn’t even know! She can’t _see_!” Waverly and Nicole simultaneously rolled their eyes.

“I am _right_ here,” Waverly butt in, just as Nicole countered, “Yeah, but she’s my girlfriend. _And_ it’s her birthday.”

“Is that why there’s a sad excuse for a cake in the fridge?” Nicole shot daggers at the back of Wynonna’s head. Wynonna knew damn well Nicole wanted to keep that a secret until she got home from work and could frost it and get the placement of the candles _just_ right. The two of them slaved over it for hours last night after Waverly had fallen asleep. It was her favorite.

“You made me a cake?” Waverly perked up, shaking Meatball from her leg as she straightened herself up.

“Aaand that’s my cue to leave,” Nicole rushed out, quickly grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair Wynonna was sitting on and dislodging her completely, nearly tipping her onto the floor. “ _Don’t touch the cake!_ ” It was said for both their benefit, but Nicole was mostly looking to Wynonna. She trusted her not to sabotage the thing, but she wasn’t sure there wouldn’t be a corner piece missing by the time she got home that evening. Nicole made her way over to where Waverly was still standing at the counter and placed a gentle touch to her chin, guiding her into the kiss that followed. “Bye, baby. I’ll be home at 1830, sharp.” Nicole leaned in again, mumbling a soft _I love you_ into Waverly’s mouth.

“Stay safe,” Waverly whispered back.

“ _Always_ ,” came Nicole’s immediate hushed reply, only for their ears.

* * *

Waverly spent her day off sitting on the front porch with Wynonna while Alice ran around the yard with Meatball, chasing the ducks and the hens, counting down the minutes until 6:30, a smile on her face the entire time. It wasn’t until 6:20 rolled around and she didn’t hear tires crunching on gravel a mile down the road and there wasn’t the smell of dust in the air that came with it that the smile finally fell from her face and she began to worry.

Wynonna told her the eight unanswered texts and three unanswered calls were overreacting, but the knot in Waverly’s gut told her otherwise. So she continued to call. She called the station, Nicole’s desk phone, her cell phone; hell, she even called Lonnie, but all went unanswered. It wasn’t until Wynonna started pacing the length of the front porch at 6:40 that she finally gave in and told Wynonna to grab her keys to the truck. Nicole was never late. And she never backed out on a promise.

* * *

Wynonna drove as fast as having two of the people she loved most in the world in her passenger seats would allow and made it to the Purgatory Municipal building just after seven. She barely had the truck in park before Waverly was throwing open the passenger door and dragging Meatball with her, telling him to go forward into the building, not bothering to wait for Wynonna.

Waverly heard the sliding glass doors open in front of Meatball and slide closed once she stepped through. Meatball led her through the second set of doors just as smoothly, continuing to the front desk where Waverly expected to be greeted by Lonnie, but was met with only silence. She called out a quick _hello_ with no response and the knot in her stomach tightened uncomfortably and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. In a shaky voice, she told Meatball to move forward into the bullpen, he whined but followed the command. Waverly reached out, placing her hand on the counter around the front desk, following the curve to the opposite side, Meatball just a step ahead of her. She had reached the end and commanded Meatball to go forward once more, knowing soon enough she would be a few steps from Nicole’s office, but Meatball wouldn’t move. She gently yanked the harness grasped tightly in her fist and repeated the command in a desperate plea, her voice cracking; Meatball only whimpered and sat at Waverlys feet, not moving. She tried one more time, a feeble attempt, and gave up when Meatball only barked once and laid down. Waverly huffed, releasing the harness in favor of finding the wall to her left with a shaking hand. She could feel her heart in her throat as she got closer and closer to Nicole’s office door, barely managing to croak out Nicole’s name before her fingers brushed the door frame and her boot nudged something on the floor.

Meatball whined again and Waverly heard the sliding glass doors open on the other side of the desk, Wynonna’s boots clomping on the wood floor seconds after. She could tell by the way she was walking that Alice wasn’t with her.

Waverly slid down the length of the wall to her knees, her breath caught in her throat as she reached out and was met with wet fabric. In shock, she pulled her hand back as if burned, her fingers coming away sticky and wet. It didn’t register at first, her brain didn’t want to believe what her nose confirmed the second she was close enough. Vanilla and copper. Gunpowder.

Tentatively, Waverly reached out again, slower. She found the holster where a gun usually sat, empty. She followed the holster up to where it was connected to the belt wrapped around a slim waist. She followed the line of the belt to a set of buttons holding together a drenched shirt, no longer tucked neatly into the waistband of well-fitting pants. The line of buttons led her to a tie, askew over the breast pocket of a uniform, and then further to a collar, wrinkled.

She stopped there, took a breath and let her chin fall to her chest.

_Bodies weren’t supposed to feel like that._


	2. ii. the thread is ripping, the knot is slipping

If it had been anyone else, Waverly would have known exactly what to do. She kept her CPR and First Aid certifications up to date and even made sure Wynonna did too, for Alice. But this wasn’t just  _ someone else _ , this was  _ Nicole _ .  _ Her  _ Nicole.

She could hear Wynonna behind her, she thought maybe she was saying something, but Waverly couldn’t hear anything over her own heart beating in her ears and the animalistic howling scratching her throat raw. Her body wouldn’t stop shaking and the overwhelming scent of copper was making her nauseous and dizzy. She thought maybe she was going into shock, but she couldn’t remember the signs or how to snap herself out of it. So she grasped onto the only solid thing within reach and used Nicole’s body to ground her, not caring that blood was seeping into the knees of her jeans from where she knelt in it. She didn’t care about the blood on her hands when she pulled Nicole closer by a belt loop and scooped her limp body awkwardly into her lap. She tried to ignore the warmth soaking through her sweater causing it to stick uncomfortably to the skin of her stomach.

Waverly wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare she was sure she was in, but when she pinched herself, she found she was already awake.

A pair of hands on her shoulders started to pry her arms from around Nicole, but she wasn’t ready to say goodbye, not yet. Not when she had a ring hidden at the back of Wynonna’s sock drawer and a proposal planned for when the wildflowers were in full bloom and kid names picked out. Not when they had plans to vacation on the west coast, just the two of them for a week or two, sand in between their toes and the warmth of the sun on their skin, the salt from the ocean on her lips. Not when she had yet to say those three little words that got caught on the tip of her tongue every time she thought them.

Stronger arms than before, or maybe there were several pairs this time, successfully managed to pry Waverly from Nicole’s prone form and drag her from the scene. She kicked and screamed and fought tooth and nail, but the arms wouldn’t relent until a soft voice in her ear told her that it was okay, it would be okay. And then Wynonna was holding her and whispering to her that  _ they  _ had to stop the bleeding and that  _ they  _ had to get her breathing again and that  _ they  _ were doing everything  _ they  _ could.

Waverly was tired of hearing what  _ they  _ were going to do so she stopped listening to her sister and started trying to locate a familiar gasp of breath before she was completely out of range.

When they cut Nicole’s shirt open and started placing paddles to her chest, Wynonna half-carried, half-dragged Waverly out of the building and to the passenger seat of her truck, Meatball already waiting, impatiently, in the middle seat. The second Wynonna strapped Waverly in, Meatball laid his head in her lap, his immediate concern being the wounded noises coming from his otherwise peaceful companion and trying to get her to quiet down. Waverly instinctively buried her face and hands in the shepherd’s scruff, allowing him to comfort her in the only way he knew how.

Wynonna glanced to the front of the municipal building, only to wish she hadn’t. The paramedics - four young adults she vaguely remembered from high school or maybe a college party, the people currently in charge of keeping her best friend and future sister-in-law from falling any deeper into the unknown - were wheeling a gurney through the double doors. A woman currently on her knees, straddling Nicole’s hips, muscles working in a desperate attempt to keep her heart pumping, while the others led them to the open doors of the ambulance. One of the men was holding a red-stained pad to Nicole’s lower abdomen, uniform cut away, while his other hand secured another wad of gauze just to the right of her sternum. The other man was holding another pad to Nicole’s shoulder while his other hand squeezed a bag attached to a mask over Nicole’s nose and mouth. A third man steered the gurney at Nicole’s feet. Wynonna looked away as soon as the ambulance doors closed behind them, Nicole’s pale face and blood-soaked uniform burned into her memory.

When they left, sirens wailing, she followed close behind, traffic laws be damned. Waverly had grown eerily quiet, face still buried in Meatball’s fur, entire body shaking uncontrollably. When they arrived at the hospital, Wynonna parked behind the Ambulance in the Emergency bay, sure at least one wheel was up on the curb, but not finding it in herself to care. If they happened to tow her truck, she’d pay whatever fines she needed. Right now, her only concern was making sure her baby sister wasn’t so broken she couldn’t at least make it inside.

Opening her door, Wynonna hopped out of the truck and ran around the front to the passenger side door and threw it open. Waverly hadn't moved. Wynonna was seconds from pushing Meatball from her sister’s lap and lifting Waverly herself, but she stopped abruptly when she heard Waverly whisper, quiet enough she had to lean in to hear.

“I love her, ‘Nonna.”

“I know, Babygirl. Let’s get you in there so you can tell her yourself, yeah?” Waverly simply nodded her head, but gave no other indication that she was ready to move. It took Wynonna gently prying Waverly’s red-stained fingers from Meatball’s fur and tugging Meatball from Waverly’s lap to get her to step out of the truck and onto the sidewalk. Meatball immediately nudged Waverly’s thigh and she grabbed his harness before they followed Wynonna into the building. She was surprised she could walk, with her legs the equivalent of Jell-O.

Nicole was long gone, down some corridor and into surgery before Wynonna could get another glimpse, but the chaos in her wake was apparent; nurses paging for O negative, orderlies calling for a janitor to clean the tiles spotted with the sheriff’s blood, doctors rushing through the halls as if a small town’s sheriff bleeding out from three gunshot wounds was the highlight of their week.

Wynonna felt sick, but she swallowed the bile rising in her throat and led Waverly away from the commotion and over to sit on a dusty, flower-print loveseat that looked like it was straight out of the 60s.

A nurse briskly greeted them with two new pairs of scrubs and an invitation to wash up in one of the bathrooms. Wynonna quickly thanked her, but Waverly made no indication that she heard the offer. Wynonna had to practically drag her from the couch to the bathroom after several minutes trying to persuade her to go herself. Wynonna didn’t bother changing; hospital garb wasn’t really her style. The blood on her was transferred from Waverly anyway and she didn’t think there was enough of it to warrant throwing out her favorite leather jacket - a gift that happened to be from a certain sheriff. Waverly on the other hand looked like Carrie after the dance, even Meatball would need a bath later.

Wynonna washed what she could; her sister’s hands, her arms, tried to wipe away the redhead’s blood from Waverly’s stomach and chest, even her knees and thighs. Then she changed her, throwing her blood-stained clothes into a plastic contamination bag the nurse had given her. Waverly still hadn’t said a word.

She was silent when Chrissy and her father sat down next to the Earps on cracked leather chairs. Silent when Dolls showed up with food that nobody but Wynonna ate, and when Jeremy and Robin showed up with several bouquets of flowers. Silent when Doc eventually made it with news that Alice was fast asleep at the homestead, where Gus was watching her. And when the afternoon staff switched shifts with the evening personnel.

  
  


It was hours of uncomfortable silence before they heard anything other than pity-filled updates of  _ she’s still in surgery, but she’s doing really well  _ or _ she’s strong, she’ll pull through _ . Waverly never acknowledged them, the tone of their voice made her cringe every time. She knew they were trying to help, but she didn’t want an automatic response to someone else's trauma, one used so many times it lost its meaning. She wanted them to do their damn job and get her back her girlfriend. She’d do anything to hear Nicole say her name one more time, an exhalation, a sigh, the smile in her voice apparent along with the indent of a dimple on each cheek, just big enough for the pad of Waverly’s thumb to fit in.

So when Waverly heard someone approach them, feet dragging along the floor, she was prepared to hear another inadequate attempt to make them feel better about the situation. Instead, Wynonna gently elbowed her in the side and she sat up, despite her body protesting moving from her slouched position, and craned her head toward the figure in front of them, praying the words  _ I’m sorry _ weren’t uttered.

“You’re Sheriff Haught’s-?”

“-people,  _ yes _ ,” Wynonna interrupted. There was a slight pause before the man continued. Waverly imagined he took the time to look around at everyone there for Nicole. They must have taken up a majority of the waiting area.

Wynonna was fidgeting in the seat next to her, her knee bouncing like a kangaroo. Waverly firmly placed her hand on her sister’s thigh, halting the movement. She understood, really. It took everything in her not to hold her breath, waiting to hear the words she dreaded. But they never came.

“Any immediate family?”

“None,  _ we’re  _ her family. Unless you count her cat, you’re stuck with us, Doc. And CJ  _ hates  _ men.”

Waverly heard Nedley a couple seats to her left scoff and mutter under his breath, something about  _ not  _ all  _ men _ . Chrissy backhanded him in the arm and Jeremy snorted, earning him a gentle slap to the knee from Robin. The doctor shifted awkwardly in front of them.

“Right… Well, I know you want me to cut right to the chase, you all have been waiting long enough.” Without waiting for confirmation, the doctor continued, “She’s out of surgery, we have her set up in the ICU for now, but she’s stable and seems to be responding well. I obviously want her to stay in the ICU so we can keep an eye on her. There are still a few things worth fussing over, but one or two of you are welcome to spend a few minutes with her before visiting hours are over-”

“A few minutes?!” Waverly cried out, her voice cracking from lack of use, as she jumped to her feet. She felt Wynonna gently grab her arm and Meatball quickly rise from where he was previously resting his head at her feet. “What about overnight? I can’t- She can’t- She doesn’t like to sleep alone.”

“Wave, it’s ok-” Wynonna tried, attempting to coax Waverly into taking a seat again. Normally Wynonna would be right there with her, but she knew she had to keep some semblance of calm for her sister’s sake. Inside she was a mess, the images of Nicole’s lifeless body still flashing through her mind's eye like a projection. It didn’t feel real.

“No, I’m not leaving her alone, Wynonna!” Waverly freed her arm from her sister’s grip, roughly pulling away, nearly in hysterics. She felt Wynonna stand beside her, hands hovering, but not having anything to say. Waverly could still feel the blood on her hands, despite having washed it off hours ago. Just the thought was making it harder to breathe.

The doctor cleared his throat in an attempt to intervene and calm the situation before it escalated further, “I uh, I might be able to pull some strings and get a cot put into her room for you, if you’d like?” Waverly sighed in relief.

“ _ Yes _ !  _ Please _ . That’s- I’m sorry.  _ Thank you _ .” Waverly made to grab for her sister’s hand, Wynonna met her halfway.

“It’s alright, I understand. Her room is just this way.”

  
  


The hospital room smelled strongly of antiseptic and rubber gloves and it made Waverly want to vomit, but she swallowed it down and held herself together as much as she could. The doctor had left the two of them alone with Nicole minutes before with promises to get a cot for Waverly and to escort Wynonna out of the ICU when visiting hours were over.

Despite the doctor having left, Waverly felt as though she was rooted to the floor. She didn’t know what she would discover upon approaching Nicole’s bed. She didn’t hear the manufactured breathing of a ventilator and figured that a welcome sign, but it sounded as if every machine hooked to her girlfriend was beeping and no matter how steady it was right then, there was a constant thought at the back of her head that that could change in an instant.

Meatball whined once when they initially entered the room, but hadn’t made a peep since. Wynonna’s hand was still firmly grasped in Waverly’s with no intention of letting go until Waverly initiated it.

“Babygirl, it isn’t as bad as you think. I mean, she’s a little pale, but she was practically a vampire before, so...”

“ _ Wy _ …” Waverly choked out, an attempt at chastising her sister. Wynonna squeezed her hand. When Waverly squeezed back several seconds later, Wynonna tugged at her arm.

“Come here.” Wynonna led Waverly over to Nicole’s bedside, once she released Meatball, and placed one of her sister’s hands over the sheriff’s, the other at the redhead’s cheek. “Just be careful not to yank on anything.” But the comment fell on deaf ears.

Waverly was distracted.

To say Nicole felt  _ normal  _ would have been a stretch; her skin was still slightly clammy and warmer than usual, but Waverly could  _ feel  _ the life in her underneath her fingertips. The drastic contrast from earlier nearly made her cry out in relief. Nicole was  _ alive _ .  _ Her  _ Nicole.  _ Alive _ .

But Waverly wanted more. More proof that what she was feeling was real.

She trailed her hand, the one stroking Nicole’s cheekbone, down to a set of chapped lips, parted slightly, and nearly gasped when she felt a silent breath of air rush out over the pads of her fingers. She continued her predetermined track down Nicole’s jaw to the hollow of her throat and ghosted her fingers down the path of a wire down to where it disappeared underneath a hospital gown, too loose over Nicole’s frame. The wire ended, attached to a silver dollar-sized electrode, stuck to Nicole’s skin just below the collar of the hospital gown.

Waverly paused there, the palm of her hand flat against Nicole’s chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath. Feeling her heart beat in time with the machine monitoring it. She ached to rest her head there instead, but feared she would accidentally nudge something or pull something and she couldn’t afford to risk making matters worse. Not when her soulmate’s lifeline was already cut and knotted back together again who knew how many times.

When the beeping at Nicole’s bedside suddenly quickened, Waverly nearly jumped out of her skin. Her hands flew to the space between their bodies, afraid she touched something she shouldn’t have, but before she could pull away completely, another hand caught hers in its grasp. Familiar calluses drew nonsense into her skin, trying,  _ hoping  _ to calm the shaking in her limbs.

Only when a voice, raspy from unuse, finally whispered her name like a prayer, did the wild thrashing of her heart calm to a steady rhythm, one she hadn’t felt since that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kind of want to do a part 3? where Nicole is home and Waverly takes some time off of work to help take care of her?


End file.
